


Steve and Bucky vs. the Media

by CaptainSteeb



Series: Steve and Bucky Try To Function [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Bullying, Catholic Steve Rogers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Gen, Guns, Homophobia, Humor, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, News Media, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Protective Steve Rogers, Smoking, Social Media, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, bad language, everyone lives in the tower, implied anti semitism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSteeb/pseuds/CaptainSteeb
Summary: Steve and Bucky are way past caring what the news headlines have to say about them, and they'll give their unfiltered thoughts on any subject that pops up. This leads to them getting into a bit of trouble at Avengers press conferences and public outings.____@bonkybonkybonky L O L I can’t believe Cap just said that on a livestream. I keep telling you guys we’re living in the most blessed timeline #CapRant
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Series: Steve and Bucky Try To Function [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765621
Comments: 187
Kudos: 531





	1. Bad for Optics

Bucky was sprawled out on the communal sofa, shoveling Cracker Jacks into his mouth and watching an old Star Trek episode, when Steve strode in, made a beeline for him, and laid down atop him with a grunt.

“Why,” Bucky said without taking his eyes off the television.

“Long day.” Steve’s voice was muffled in Bucky’s flesh shoulder. Bucky brought a hand up, sticky with caramel from his snack, and pet Steve’s soft blond hair.

“Baby,” Bucky said softly. He grabbed a kernel of popcorn and brought it up to Steve’s mouth. Steve accepted it gingerly and chewed, blue eyes blearily focused on Bucky’s face.

“I’m in trouble,” Steve pouted. He buried his head into the crook of Bucky’s neck. He wound his legs, clad in a pair of Iron Man sweatpants, around Bucky’s. Bucky sighed and hooked his arms around Steve’s back, rubbing at his tense shoulder blades.

“You sound like we’re back in third grade. What are you in trouble for?”

Steve grumbled something and poked his pointy nose against Bucky’s jaw.

“Hm?” Bucky asked gently.

“I yelled at a reporter during the news conference. Called him a name.”

“Oh, honey,” Bucky sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to the chewing out they would inevitably both get from their PR manager, because she treated them as a package deal and whenever Steve stirred up some shit, Bucky had to hear about it too. “Why?”

“He said something nasty about you.”

“Stevie,” Bucky softly admonished, threading his flesh hand into Steve’s hair. “We talked about this. People are _always_ gonna say nasty stuff about me; they always have, ever since we were kids.”

“I know.”

“You can’t fight everyone who says mean shit about me.” Bucky turned his head to kiss Steve’s temple. “Remember Harry Thompson? He called me—Well, you know what he called me.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky had been ten years old and walking home from shul when he’d first heard _that word_. Some of the other boys took to calling him that at school, and Steve had gone feral and had kicked and punched Harry Thompson, the ringleader, until he could barely stand.

Bucky fed Steve another Cracker Jack. “Remember what happened when you beat the shit out of him?”

Steve’s voice was sullen. “Got suspended for four months.”

“And it wasn’t worth it,” Bucky said firmly. “Gotta pick your battles, sweetheart.”

“But the reporter said you should be on death row, and it just made me so,” Steve wriggled around and huffed, “so angry and sad. _I would burn everything to the ground_ if that happened to you. Where does he get off saying shit like that?”

“He’s not worth your anger,” Bucky whispered. “You can’t let people like that live in your head. I’m right here, and I ain’t going anywhere. Do you hear me?”

“I guess.”

Bucky smiled and kissed Steve’s cheek, then went back to his Star Trek. He still pet Steve with one hand, gently scratching at Steve’s broad back, trying to calm that ever-simmering fury beneath Steve’s skin.

“What did you call him?”

Steve hummed. “What? Who?”

“The reporter.”

“Oh.” Steve wriggled his arms under Bucky’s shoulders and hid his face in between Bucky’s side and the back of the couch. “Somethin’ mean. Clint laughed, though.”

“ _Steve_.”

“…I called him an unwashed asshole.”

Bucky laughed so hard he knocked both of them off the couch.

“Oh, Stevie,” he said, sprawled on the floor, face red. “Never change, babydoll. Never change.”

The elevator dinged behind them and slow footsteps shuffled over toward where they were collapsed on the floor.

Tony’s voice was very tired: “Did Captain Crunch tell you what he said to the reporter?”

Bucky, who was laying flat on his back, tilted his head backwards to smirk at Tony upside-down. “Hey, Junior. When will our PR gal be down here to yell at us?”

“ _Tiffany_ isn’t coming,” Tony said, stepping over them, stooping down to snatch up the half-full box of Cracker Jacks, and plopping down on the couch. “She just called me and said she’s taking a mental health day. I had to bribe her with some stock options not to quit on the spot.” He loosened his flashy gold tie and pulled it off, dropping it onto Steve’s face.

“I don’t regret it,” Steve said. Bucky groaned and pinched him; stubborn little bastard never learned.

“I can’t believe you actually said that to someone,” Tony said, letting his head fall back onto the sofa. “ _Captain America calls reporter an unwashed asshole._ You know that press conference was a livestream? Millions and millions of people watch our livestreams. More people than your little blond head can comprehend. ”

Steve crossed his arms. “Don’t care. I can say what I want.”

“ _Santa Maria._ ” Tony dug his hand into the Cracker Jack box and shoved a handful into his mouth. Immediately, he gagged and spat out the plastic toy he’d just eaten, which was of course a tiny version of Thor’s hammer. “I hate this. I hate everything. Barnes, how do you put up with him?”

“Stevie’s a full-time job,” Bucky answered, beleaguered. “You don’t know what this boy puts me through, the stress.”

“You sound like your Ma,” Steve said, wriggling a foot over to pinch Bucky’s side with his bare toes. “ _You put me through so much stress, boychik, you’re going to kill me_ ,” he said, voice going high-pitched and taking on an exaggerated accent.

“See what I put up with?” Bucky groaned.

“Well, we’re having another press conference tomorrow,” Tony said, eyes sliding shut. “Rogers is obviously sitting that one out, so we’re going to bring you in to cover. We need one of you up there for optics; you two draw in the over-65 demographic.”

“Ugh,” Bucky said. Steve snickered and pinched him again.

Tony ran his hands over his face. “All you have to do sit there and try not to stare at everyone like you’re going to disembowel them. Can you manage that, Terminator?”

“Sure I can, wiseass,” Bucky answered. “What’s the conference about?”

“We’re plugging our new merchandise line.” Tony finally opened his eyes and swiveled his head to look at Bucky. “We have a jacket for you to wear. All you have to do is sit there, Barnes, I mean it. _Do not take any questions._ ”

Bucky shrugged. Sure, he could do that.

——

@bonkybonkybonky L O L I can’t believe Cap just said that on a livestream. I keep telling you guys we’re living in the most blessed timeline #CapRant #unwashedasshole

@toxiccapfanboy I’m always here for Captain Rogers ripping into the media. Unbelievably based. Hey @AvengerNewsOfficial how about an apology for war hero Sergeant Barnes?

@SteebBorkyLove333 I can’t believe the reporter said Bucky should be on death row he’s LITERALLY a recovering POW. Earth to @AvengerNewsOfficial that was problematic as hell. Thank you Steve for sticking up for your husband!

@TiffanyLee_PR I will be taking no further inquires regarding my client. Please redirect all questions to @realtonystark. Thank you.

@realtonystark Tiffany I’ll buy you a villa in Hawaii have mercy on me.


	2. Tiffany's Plight

Tiffany Lee was a woman of thirty two with two degrees from USC, five years of experience interning at the White House, and five years of experience working PR for SpaceX. Being a tiny woman of Taiwanese descent with what her brother called a “Minnie Mouse voice,” she had had to deal with a lot of bullshit to get where she was today.

When she had applied for a PR spot at Stark Industries, it had been a shot in the dark. She hadn’t really thought she could get the job but had thrown her resume around for the hell of it. When she had somehow landed the job, she’d called her family back in California crying with excitement. Her parents immediately took to social media to brag about her, and even her deadbeat little brother had congratulated her. She had been over the moon when she’d been informed that she wasn’t just working for SI—she was working for The Avengers! She was offered the position to be _Captain Rogers’ and Sergeant Barnes’ PR manager_! That night, she had taken her then-boyfriend out for a steak dinner and drinks to celebrate.

It had only taken a bit of time to see the reality of the situation.

One morning, three months into the job, Tony Stark (her boss! Tony Stark was her boss!) had texted her:

_hey Tiff lol so I guess Cap and Robocop signed up 4 Twitter last nite can u go check it out I’m sure it’ll just be stupid old man pictures of birds n stuff thx!_

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the most professional boss, but he offered full benefits and 20 days PTO, so she could deal. She hadn’t expected much: She’d prepared herself for a bit of damage control—Captain Rogers held some very strong political views and Barnes had just had an incident when he’d worn a _Fuck Around and Find Out_ shirt last month—but she hadn’t been prepared for the absolute shitstorm that had befallen her. The job-honeymoon phase had come to a crashing halt when she’d seen that Captain Rogers had gone on a Twitter rampage yelling at every anti-vaxxer he could dig up.

Now that she was a year and a half into the job, Tiffany was jaded enough to know that a text from Tony Stark at 9 PM wasn’t a good thing.

_hey Tiff I kno ur taking a mental health day but can u maybe talk to 2 john wick tomorrow before the press thing I don’t think he understands what good PR means thx see u in the AM_ 🤪✌️👑🐒

She took a few deep breaths, reminding herself what a good job she had and how she was able to spoil her husband and take care of her parents. Stark didn’t know it, but she gave most of her bonuses, cars, and vacations to her family because she was a good daughter and they deserved it. She typed back a curt affirmative and tossed her phone onto the nightstand, then settled down and prepared for tomorrow.

_Mental health day, my ass._

_——_

“I ain’t wearing that.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose at the bright blue _Avengers Assemble!_ jacket that the hair and makeup girl was brandishing at him.

“You have to,” she said. “This is from merchandising.”

“I don’t like it. I’ll look like an asshole.”

Natasha, who was batting away her makeup guy, chimed in: “It’s for charity.”

Dammit. Bucky couldn’t say no to that, especially not as the head of a scholarship fund himself. He snatched the jacket away from the girl and shoved his arms into it. She zipped it all the way up to his neck and he unzipped it to his belly button. They repeated this a few times before she gave up and walked away.

“James?”

Bucky rolled his eyes to the ceiling when he heard _that voice_ behind him. Natasha, the traitor, vanished and left him alone with his PR gal.

“Hey, Tammy.”

She sighed at him. He wasn’t sure if she’d caught on yet that he did in fact know her name and his brains weren’t quite as scrambled as he made them out to be.

“Tiffany,” she corrected. “James, I need you to be nice to the press today, okay? Your husband blew our optics yesterday with that…comment he made—”

“He called the unwashed asshole an unwashed asshole.”

She folded her hands and smiled politely at him. “Yes. You know that some of these reporters will try to get a rise out of you for a headline. We try to weed them out but some of them slip through the cracks. So today,” she zipped his jacket up to the middle of his chest and smoothed her hands down his arms, “the only thing you need to do is sit there and smile, alright? I know you’re not crazy about these things—”

“I hate this shit. Steve got to stay home and build one of his stupid fuckin’ model ships today, how come I can’t—”

“All you need to do,” she repeated with a tense smile, “is make an appearance. You and Captain Rogers pull in the older crowd, and you in particular draw in a more… _rural_ demographic—”

Bucky liked his guns and oftentimes walked around the city fully strapped. The government never seemed to say anything for some reason.

“—and this is for a charity. So please,” she waved a hand in front of her face helplessly, “please behave.”

“Yeah, alright.” Bucky wasn’t like Steve. He didn’t have a stick up his ass for every social justice cause under the sun and wasn’t half as opinionated. He could shut up for charity.

“Great.” She beamed at him and he felt a little bad for all the hell he and Stevie always put her through, so he cracked a grin in response.

“Alright, Talia,” he said. “I’ll behave.”

——

The press conference was going well for once. The tower had a beautifully set up room for these events, with a long marble table where the Avengers could sit and take questions. Bucky had been seated on the far end of the table, next to Natasha. Beside her was Tony, then Thor and Sam.

They had learned not to sit Bucky and Sam together after The Water Incident.

The merchandise they were rolling out wasn’t half bad, in Bucky’s opinion. Other than the stupid jacket he was wearing, the other clothes were palatable. The toy line was decent this time, he pondered, fiddling with the Winter Soldier action figure they’d set in front of him. At least they hadn’t put his metal arm on the wrong side this time.

“—stay so thin and in such great shape?”

Bucky only caught the end of the question, but he knew it was for Natasha. She always got questions like that. He tuned out her answer, choosing instead to examine the Steve action figure that they’d also put in front of him. It was accurate enough, he supposed, but they still hadn’t managed to get Steve’s big schnoz right. Have that thing poking you in the face every morning for years and see if you could forget it, he thought wryly.

“—favorite recipe?”

Bucky sniffed and kept messing around with the Steve doll. That question was for Sam, who had started a cooking YouTube channel a few months back. Sam went off on a tangent aboutcarrot cake and Bucky tuned everyone out again.

A few more minutes of asinine questions, dumb jokes from Stark, and hearty laughter from Thor. Bucky propped his metal arm up on the table and leaned his head on his fist. His stomach growled and he imagined the pizza he was going to order after this circus was finished.

“—rival Elon Musk?”

Bucky snorted. There was no easier way to get Stark riled up than to mention Elon Musk. The press was starting to bait them, right on time.

“We have been in talks for some time,” Stark replied diplomatically, but Bucky could hear the tension in his voice.

“Sergeant Barnes!” one reporter called out, her voice raising above the others as she stood up. “Sergeant, would you like to comment on your husband’s inappropriate remarks to my colleague yesterday?”

Hell yes Bucky would like to comment, but he just shook his head and looked back down at the action figures. The reporter plopped back into her seat, defeated.

Unfortunately the spotlight was on him now. He heard his name called a few more times, but just shook his head and demurred every question to one of the others. Eventually, the sharks took a hint and pivoted back to Natasha.

It looked to be wrapping up soon. Bucky messed around with the action figures some more. The Steve one was very bendy.

“—you for coming today to benefit our charity,” Stark shuffled some papers around, “um, our chosen charity, _Save The Rats—”_

The fuck? Bucky glanced up and frowned over at Stark, who appeared just as baffled but kept reading off the paper:

“Rats in New York City are…oftentimes hit by cars and made…made homeless by residents removing them from their apartments and office buildings. We support this initiative to help—”

“Excuse me, what the _fuck_?”

It was silent. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky could see Tiffany frantically flapping her hands at him.

“The,” Stark said uneasily, “the rats?”

“Who gives a flying motherfuck about rats?!” Bucky exclaimed, sitting up very straight. “We’re raising money for _wild rats in New York City_?”

“Sergeant Barnes—” one brave reporter said, “your husband has supported wildlife initiatives many times in the past—”

“Yeah, for rhinos and shit!” Bucky reached across Natasha, who was sitting very still with only the slightest twitch to her mouth, and grabbed the papers from Stark’s hands. He scanned it for a moment. “We’ve raised twenty million for this?! I’ve been sittin’ up here on a Monday, hungry as fuck, brain fried, listenin’ to you ask my teammates dumb and insulting questions, just to raise _twenty million dollars for rats_? I didn't fight the Nazis for this shit!”

He threw his arms up, the papers flying everywhere, and let out a burst of Yiddish that had his mother spinning in her grave. Shaking his head and cursing at the sky, he stood up and marched out of the room.

Thankfully, no one was dumb enough to try to stop him.

###

“So not only did you curse everyone out,” Steve said, using a tiny pair of tweezers to affix the mast of his model ship to the hull, “but you also positioned our action figures to make it look like yours was doin’ me in the ass doggy style?”

“Yep.” Bucky shoved another bite of pizza into his mouth.

“That’s swell, Buck.” Steve held out a hand and they high-fived just as Stark came bustling into their living room.

“Well, Terminator, you’ve really done it this time.” Stark had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other. He plopped down heavily on the couch, jostling Steve.

“Don’t. Ruin. My. Ship,” Steve said very softly but very, very dangerously. Stark stood right back up and deposited himself on the floor instead, taking a long swig out of the bottle.

“We’re changing the charity,” Stark said after a moment. “Turns out that the rat thing was a money laundering scheme.”

“I’m so shocked,” Steve said, completely deadpan.

“What’re they changing it to?” Bucky asked.

Stark took another drink and belched. “We want to let you choose.”

Oh. Well, that was nice, Bucky figured. “Okay. Let’s give it to Stevie’s rhino thing.”

“Rogers Initiative to Save the Black Rhino,” Steve corrected gently, squinting at a tiny piece of wood that was sticking out of his ship’s side.

“That’s a stupid name,” Bucky said. “Give it to Stevie’s rhino thing.”

“Alright, I’ll call our charity guy in the morning.” Stark laid down flat on their carpeted floor and crossed his legs. “Barnes, you wanna explain the action figures?”

Bucky smirked. “Figure it out yourself, genius,” he said, and Steve pinched him on the ear.

——

@bonkybonkybonky L O L where do I even begin? The rat thing? The figurines? There’s so much to unpack here. Bucky Barnes is NEXT LEVEL. #HangryBucky #ratrant

@toxiccapfanboy Seriously considering changing my handle to toxicbarnesfanboy because that was legendary. We don’t support fake charities in this house! #ratrant

@toxicbarnesfanboy Ok I did it.

@SteebBorkyLove333 We stan a hangry king. Get this man some FOOD. #ratrant #HangryBucky

@SteveGRogersIsABottom I TOLD YOU GUYS

@TiffanyLee_PR I fully support my client’s statements at the press conference and will not be taking any further inquiries.

@realtonystark @TiffanyLee_PR so…maybe a private island this time?

——

Tiffany rolled her eyes and typed out a quick message to her boss. She didn’t want a private island, what would she even do with it?

_Mr. Stark, just make sure that money goes to a legitimate charity. I don’t need anything else from you. Thanks, Tiffany._

She sighed, then looked over at her husband, who was changing out of his work uniform after a twelve hour shift. Screw it. If she was going to have to deal with Rogers and Barnes, she was at least going to spoil the hell out of her family on Stark’s dime.

_Actually, I’ll be needing a stroller soon. And a crib. And all that other stuff. I’ll send you my registry when I have one. I’m thinking Neiman Marcus._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you've got any prompts or ideas for this fic; I'm open to anything! :)


	3. Mic Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by a prompt from xKJx. Thank you!
> 
> Tags have been updated, please take a look.

Bucky was seated on the couch in the common room in a pair of sweatpants and a white tank top, hair in a bun and stubble dark on his face, smoking a cigarette and hunched over the disassembled assault rifle he had on the coffee table. The rifle— a modified AK he’d picked up when visiting his little sister in Israel (she was 91 years old now!)— was a beauty, dark black and streamlined and altered to his very particular tastes. He’d named it Steve. He was polishing the scope lens when Bruce walked in and paused upon seeing him.

“You, uh,” Bruce said, eyes bloodshot and speech like molasses, “you want a burrito? I’m ordering burritos.”

“You been hittin’ the wacky tobaccy again?” Bucky asked.

Bruce was quiet for several very long seconds, then he blinked. “Huh?”

Bucky pursed his lips. “Never mind. Get me some chips and guac. Stevie’ll eat whatever; order something for him too.”

“Alright,” Bruce said with a slow smile, wandering off toward the kitchen.

“Hey, look who it is! How’s it going, John Wick?”

Bucky didn’t bother looking over when he heard Stark’s voice. “Fine.”

Stark approached the coffee table warily, stopping a few feet away from Bucky and rocking back and forth on his feet. “So, uh, this is illegal. And terrifying.”

“Hm?” Bucky examined the pistol grip, wiping a bit of dirt off of it. He stubbed out his cigarette on his metal arm and tossed the butt on the floor.

“You know what? I’ve been working on self-preservation in therapy. Never mind.” Stark stood there for a few more minutes as Bucky swiftly reassembled his rifle. “So, uh. We’ve got a charity thing later—”

Bucky scowled up at Stark. “Aw, fuckin’ kidding me?” he said. “That wasn’t on the schedule! Me and Stevie were gonna go to the zoo!”

“I know it’s last minute,” Stark explained hastily, “but the Fantastic Four pulled out this morning because of a family emergency.”

“The last time the Fantastic Fucks had a _family emergency_ ,” Bucky said with air quotes, “they were living it up in Vegas for a weekend.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” Stark ran a hand over his goatee and sighed. “But this is at a school. We can’t bail on these kids.”

Dammit. Ever since the rat charity incident a few weeks back, Bucky had weaseled his way out of all press briefings and public appearances, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. He huffed and leaned back, regarding Stark with his deadliest Murder Glare, and the two were silent for a few tense moments until Steve came bouncing in from the elevator.

“Hey, Buck!” Steve exclaimed, as happy to see Bucky as he ever was, and he bounded over to pull Bucky into a hug.

“Hey, baby.”

Steve kept bouncing. “I got a map of the zoo! We can see the lions and the tigers and—”

“Steve.”

“— the anteater and the giraffes—”

“Steve.”

“—and the bald eagle, and they have a snake for you to look at but I don’t wanna get near that fuckin’ thing—”

Stark stepped forward and slung an arm around Steve’s giant shoulders, giving him a regretful look. Steve paused and frowned at him.

“What? Oh, Tony, no—”

“We have to do a charity gig at a school,” Bucky cut in. “We’ll have to go to the zoo tomorrow instead.”

Steve groaned. “Tony! I just filmed all those PSA’s two days ago. Can’t you get someone else? Get,” he gestured over to where Bruce was standing by the window and staring outside at the clouds, “get Bruce?”

“Bruce is high,” Stark said.

“Where’s Natasha?”

“She’s having a salon day with Pepper and Thor, and even I’m not stupid enough to try to interrupt that.”

“Well,” Steve threw his hands up in the air. “Clint? He’s up in his room eating pizza rolls. Get him to go.”

“Cap,” Stark said, quirking his eyebrows together, “do you really trust Clint around kids after the circus incident?”

“Well, then….What the hell do they want _Buck_ for?!” Steve asked, gesturing at Bucky’s whole…being. “Look at him! Would you want this guy around your kids, he looks like he’s going to initiate them into the Bratva!”

“Wow, Stevie, guess who’s on the couch tonight.”

“Cap,” Stark said gently, “you’re very pretty when you beg, but you’re not getting out of this one.”

Steve deflated at that. Bucky stepped forward and grabbed him, planting a kiss on his nose.

“It’s okay, baby,” Bucky said with a wry grin. “The animals ain’t going nowhere. We have to go see these kids. Can you imagine how disappointed they’d be if Captain America didn’t show up?”

“I guess,” Steve sighed, leaning into Bucky. “Let’s do it.”

——

“When you said kids,” Bucky ground out, staring up at the school they were about to enter, “I thought you meant _actual kids._ These are high school punks. They can figure their own shit out.”

“Yeah, cause _we_ had our shit figured out in high school,” Steve said sarcastically. “Oh wait! No we didn’t. Both of us dropped out. Give me a break, Buck.”

Bucky, Steve, Stark, and Sam were all seated in the back of the Avengers transport SUV. They’d gotten a briefing on the event from their charity manager and Steve had grown grumpier and grumpier as the ride went on.

“Why are you so ornery?” Bucky asked. “You’re actin’ like I haven’t slipped it to you in a few days, and we both know that ain’t the case.”

“Bucky!” Steve snapped. “Jesus. I don’t mean to be sore. I just hate the way they make us hide how we talk. Like our accent’s bad for _optics_.”

“You two do it all the time,” Sam remarked. He pointed at Steve. “The second we get away from the public, you go Cagney, and,” he moved his hand to point at Bucky, “you go…something else. When we were down in Borough Park and you started talking to that old Orthodox guy, it was like something out of a movie.”

“Can you believe it’s actually _faded_ over the years?” Steve commented. “Couldn’t understand half of what he said when we were kids, s’probably why I stuck around him.”

Bucky puffed up. “Yeah, smartass, like I could make out a fuckin’ thing you used to say with that half-Irish accent of yours! Your Ma couldn’t barely understand you!”

“So what I’m getting from this,” Stark said as the SUV pulled up to the school’s back parking lot, “is that neither one of you could understand each other’s accents for the first few months you were friends?”

They both shrugged.

“You two are an enigma,” Stark concluded. “Alright, so all we have to do is make a few speeches in an assembly—Captain Kangaroo, you’re going first so you can eat up most of the time—then walk around and chat with a few of them, get some pictures taken, then we’re out. Harvey Birdman, I’m not worried about you—”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“—but you two,” Stark said, pointing at Steve and Bucky, “behave. Tiffany is out of town this week to celebrate her pregnancy with her family and I’m not calling her in to wrangle you if you get caught up in some PR nightmare. That whole Cagney thing Sam was talking about? Leave that at home.”

“We’re not children, Tony,” Steve said. “We can handle it.”

——

“—staying in school is paramount to becoming successful—”

Bucky rolled his eyes. He, Stark, and Sam were standing off to the side of the stage as Steve stood before a few hundred high schoolers and spat some bullshit at them.

“He’s so good at this,” Sam whispered reverently.

“He dropped out of school when he was sixteen,” Bucky said.

“—eating healthy foods and getting your fruits and vegetables, and not smoking—”

Ah, Stevie always had the best ideas. Bucky reached into the pocket of his ugly Avengers jacket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros and a Captain America-themed lighter, sliding a cigarette out of the box and into his mouth in a well-practiced move.

“He’s really layin’ it on thick,” Bucky said around the cigarette as he flicked the lighter and brought it up to light the smoke. Stark glanced over at him, gasped, and snatched the cigarette right out of his mouth.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Stark whispered.

“Right now? Trying not to rip your head off. The hell are _you_ doing?”

“You can’t smoke in a school where we’re doing a charity event!”

“Can’t smoke in _any_ school,” Sam added. Bucky ignored him and shoved the lighter back into his jacket pocket.

“Jesus Christ Almighty,” Stark said, tossing the cigarette into a nearby trashcan. “What else do you have on you? Tell me you’re not armed.”

“I’m always _armed_ ,” Bucky smirked, waving his metal hand in Stark’s face.

“You’re the worst,” Stark gasped, eyes wide. “I can’t believe I used to have a Bucky Bear. You’re worse than I am.”

Up on stage, Steve finished off his speech with a corny Captain America joke, smiled and waved at the cheering kids, and walked over to the side of the stage. He and Stark slapped each other’s hands as Stark put on his douchebag-expression and walked out on stage next. The second Steve was out of sight of the kids and behind the curtain, his smile disappeared and he shoved his hand into Bucky’s jacket.

“Hate doin’ these fuckin’ fake speeches and fuckin’ PSA’s,” Steve said quietly, pulling the box of smokes and lighter out of Bucky’s pocket. He pulled a cigarette out, neatly flipped it up into his mouth, and lit up.

“Uh,” Sam said.

“I killed Nazis,” Steve continued, inhaling deeply and letting out a great puff of smoke. “I killed thousands of Nazis, lit ‘em the hell up. And now I’m up here tellin’ kids to eat their fruits and vegetables. Which is important, but give me a break. I ate ten goddamned toaster strudels for breakfast.”

“Um,” Sam said.

“Out there lookin’ like such a mook.” Steve rolled his shoulders back and clenched his jaw. “PR department don’t even let me talk about bullying no more. Too problematic, they said, too sensitive. Fuckin’ ridiculous. Remember what they used to call me, Buck? _Cripple Stevie_. I bet there’s so many of those damn kids out there who need to hear about that instead of,” he ashed his cigarette onto the floor, “instead of _school pride_ and all that other horseshit they got me talkin’ about—”

“Um,” Sam said.

“—and I’m sure some of these fuckin’ punks don’t get no discipline at home, could use a few talks with us to whip ‘em into shape. I’m sure some of ‘em pick on the gay kids, but the PR department won’t let me talk about that no more either cause it’s too fuckin’ _sensitive_ —”

“Stevie?”

Steve paused and blinked over at Bucky. “Yeah, baby?”

“Your microphone is still on.”

——

“So, when I told you _not_ to go full-1930’s-Brooklyn on these kids,” Stark said later as they lounged around in the tower and ate burritos, “that’s kind of exactly what I meant.”

“Don’t care,” Steve said with a shrug, a smear of guacamole on his cheek, “I can say what I want. My PR gal doesn’t care anymore either; it’s just the higher-ups in PR that get upset over it.”

Bucky used a tortilla chip to scoop the guacamole off of Steve’s cheek. “The kids loved it. The principal invited Stevie back to do some anti-bullying seminars.”

“She did stipulate that you have to leave the cigarettes at home, though,” Sam added around his mouthful of tamale.

“Yeah.” Steve finished off his burrito and leaned into Bucky’s side to digest. “So I guess the kids were live-streaming me and it got the press a little…agitated. My PR gal says I should probably do a public event to smooth things out. I haven’t been child-friendly lately, though God knows why they want a military figure from World War Two to be _child-friendly_ …”

“We got an invitation to do a small-town Fourth of July parade,” Stark suggested. “We can go do that, wave some flags, eat hotdogs, photo ops with babies, the whole schtick.”

Steve, hungry again, leaned forward and grabbed a churro. “Sammy, you think that’s a good idea?”

“Sure, man, if you want to. If there’s hotdogs, I’m in. You don’t care about doing that on your birthday, though?”

Steve chuckled. “Pal, you live as long as I have and birthday’s ain’t so special anymore. Tony, sign us up for the parade. We could probably do with a little fun.”

——

@bonkybonkybonky HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS I WAS THERE AND IT WAS EVEN MORE EPIC THAN THE VIDEO. AND HE WAS 🚬S M O K I N G 🚬 #CapMic

@toxicbarnesfanboy I’ve been saying for years that Rogers is a real dude and not a Ken doll. Bruh, he’s from the 40’s, why does everyone expect him to act like Miss Congeniality? 

@karenvalerieweiss I’m so deeply disappointed that Captain Rogers uses that sort of language. I’m in tears. I thought he was so good, but he’s even worse than Stark. #CancelCap

@toxicbarnesfanboy @karenvalerieweiss Cry moar, Karen. 🐸

@TopCapFan1122 @realbuckybarnes Hi, Sergeant Barnes. U probably won’t see this but I want to try. Can you tell your husband that I really want to come to one of his anti-bullying seminars? I’m 14 I get picked on b/c I’m gay and I would love to hear him speak. Thanks.

@realbuckybarnes @TopCapFan1122 PM me, kid. We’ll work something out with your parents and get you a front row seat. Take care, and tell your bullies that the Winter Soldier does not approve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated! Throw some ideas at me if you want, I don't bite and I have a lot of time on my hands.


	4. They Call Me Baby Driver

@ThorHammerMyHole I think I just saw Captain America getting pulled over by a cop? Give me a minute will update asap

@bonkybonkybonky LOL

@ThorHammerMyHole IT’S HIM

@ThorHammerMyHole ok Barnes is in the passenger seat. I’ve never seen a man look so Done. bless this long-suffering husband

@ThorHammerMyHole the cop is super flustered LOL. She’s trying to talk to cap and cap is just sitting there staring at her

@ThorHammerMyHole I can’t hear her very well but I think she’s telling cap off for “reckless” something. Reckless driving?

@ThorHammerMyHole ok here’s a vid: [VIEW LINK]

@DailyBugleExpress @ThorHammerMyHole Hello, this is Kelly Cameron from the Daily Bugle. I would like to request usage of your video. Please DM me. Thank you!

@ThorHammerMyHole brb about to milk the Bugle $$$

____

_Earlier that day:_

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been…a really long time since my last confession.” Steve clutched his old wooden rosary and his Saint Michael medal to his chest and bowed his head. On the other side of the confessional, through a small gate, the gentle old priest responded:

“Tell me your sins, my son.”

“Uh,” Steve said, glancing down at his watch. “How much time do you have?”

____

Steve walked back over to the altar, genuflected and crossed himself, then made his way back to his pew. His mind, ever insatiable, had already run the amount of time the prayers would take and he slid down the pew onto the kneeler with a sense of dread.

It would take him three straight weeks of praying to serve his penance!

He shot an intense look up at the crucifix hanging above the altar and clenched his hands together prayerfully. He couldn’t pull this off! How had Father Walsh calculated his penance, anyway? Was it revenge for Steve keeping him in the confessional booth for over two hours? With a sigh, Steve said one very impassioned prayer under his breath, hauled himself to his feet, and slunk out of the church with his shoulders hunched.

Bucky was standing outside of the church, popping and snapping a mouthful of bubble gum. Mood lifted upon seeing his husband, Steve gave him a hug so tight that Bucky had to tap out.

“How’d it go?” Bucky asked once he caught his breath. He’d apparently gone to his Shabbat service and still had his ridiculous Captain America-themed yarmulke pinned to his head.

“Fuckin’ awful,” Steve answered, deflating. He trudged down the sidewalk and Bucky trailed after him quietly. “He gave me so many Hail Marys I’ll be doin’ them for the rest of my life.”

“Aww, baby,” Bucky said, rubbing a hand between Steve’s shoulder blades. “It’ll be okay. Let’s go home and eat.” Bucky, who took after his mother more than he’d admit, solved every problem with food.

“Yeah, alright.” Steve was about to lead them into the subway, but Bucky shook his head and tugged him back toward the sidewalk.

“What?”

Bucky pulled a flashy set of keys out of his pocket and jingled them at Steve.“Took Polly.”

 _Polly,_ or so it was nicknamed, was an ostentatious red Lamborghini that Tony had gifted Bucky for his birthday months back. Tony had obviously meant for Bucky to hate the gift but had been ruffled when Bucky’d taken to it like a fish to water. Bucky learned to drive back when he was fourteen: His father’s shop did dairy deliveries for a couple years and it had given Bucky the occasional opportunity to drive an old Dodge milk truck. The milk truck, Old Bessy, had broken down after Bucky had snuck out with Steve one night and made the deadly error of letting Steve drive it.

“I don’t know why you drive that damn thing around in the city,” Steve said as Bucky pulled him toward a heavily-guarded parking structure. “You must look like a real asshole pulling up to your charity things in it.”

“Don’t care.” Bucky waved off a valet and led the way up a flight of stairs and over to Polly, who had been given an extra-large parking spot in a corner. “Too much fun to drive this thing.”

“Yeah?” Steve eyed the car, then blinked over at Bucky.

“Oh no, don’t start that shit with me.”

Steve made his eyes very big and round. “What?”

“I’m not letting you drive my baby just because you’re givin’ me those Bambi-eyes!” Bucky used the sleeve of his jacket to polish a bit of dust off the hood of the car. “I remember what happened to my Pa’s milk truck—”

“That wasn’t my fault!”

“—and I’ll be damned if I let you drive Polly!”

——

Steve settled himself into the driver’s seat with a contented sigh. Bucky grouched his way into the passenger seat beside him and attempted to slam the automatic butterfly door, then gave up and jabbed at the radio.

Steve groaned, head hitting the back of the seat dramatically. “I don’t wanna listen to your depressing music, Buck.”

“Tough shit. You’re drivin’ my car, I pick the music.”Radiohead started playing and Bucky sat back with a huff, pulling on a pair of sunglasses even though the sun was going down.

“Yeah, but I promised to wear that lingerie for you, so I get to pick.” Steve poked at the radio and switched it over to Johnny Cash.

“You’re such a wiseguy,” Bucky sighed, all of the fight draining from him when Steve manipulated the stick shift and tore out of the parking lot. “Oh, here we fuckin’ go. Always drivin’ like we’re being chased down by Hitler, _yimakh shemo_. You don’t gotta drive like a bat outta hell.”

Steve flapped a hand at him and wove around a few taxis. “Let me have a little fun.”

“I don’t want to die like this,” Bucky lamented. “I don’t wanna die in _Manhattan_ , Stevie.”

“You ain’t gonna die. You did a backflip off the Brooklyn Bridge when we were fighting that big fuckin’ squid last week and you were fine to take me out for a bagel afterward.”

“I’d rather fight a squid than drive with your dumb blond ass.” They approached a light much too quickly and Bucky slammed his right foot down where the break would be if he were driving. “Fuck, Stevie! Ain’t you supposed to be repenting right now?”

“There ain’t no commandment against speeding, Buck.”

Bucky dropped his face into his hands and stayed quiet for a while longer. He only peeked up when he heard a _BOOP BOOP BOOP_ behind them. Turning around to see out the rear window, he swore up a storm when he saw that they were getting pulled over.

“Oh,” Steve said very quietly, deflating, “forgot about cops.”

“Oh, he forgot about cops!” Bucky exclaimed to the heavens. “Why have you saddled me with this boy?”

“Stop it; you sound like your ma.” Steve carefully slowed the car down and pulled over to an open bit of curb. “So, uh. Buck?”

Bucky closed his eyes. “What.”

“Um.”

 _Taptaptap._ The cop had approached their car and was lightly knocking on their window. Steve flailed with the controls a bit, accidentally turning the wipers on, then rolled the window down and gave the woman a sheepish grin.

“Officer?”

“Buddy, you have to know why I pulled you over,” the officer said with a sigh. She was a short, middle-aged, weathered woman who looked very ready to retire. She was holding some kind of device and tapping at it. “I picked you up at seventy mph.”

“Oh.”

“Look, can I just get your lic—” The woman paused abruptly, squinting at Steve behind her glasses, then horror dawned on her face. “Oh, shit. Captain America.”

“Yeah, uh,” Steve smiled, “that’s me.”

“And,” the cop leaned down and caught sight of Bucky, her voice wavering, “The Wint— _Sergeant Barnes_.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. He still had his sunglasses on and was slumped into his seat, leaning heavily on the headrest behind him.

“Oh shit,” the officer said again, eyes darting to Bucky’s left arm. “Okay, uh. Well, Captain Rogers, you were driving at over seventy miles per hour and—and driving very recklessly. Is there an, uh, Avengers emergency?”

Steve pursed his lips. It would be easy to lie and get out of this, but he’d just gone to confession not an hour ago and couldn’t start off his penance by lying to a police officer. “Ah, no, officer. No emergency.”

The woman sighed and looked around, her eyes filling with resolve, before she turned back to Steve. “Okay. Okay. License and registration, please, Captain.”

Bucky finally moved, leaning forward to pull the registration papers out of the glove compartment. He dug through some of his old gum wrappers, a drawing Steve had made him, and his supply of Listerine strips before he found the papers and handed them to Steve.

“Here.”

Steve wordlessly offered the registration to the officer, who raised her eyebrows.

“And your license, Captain?”

“I, uh…” Steve said with a nervous half-glance at Bucky, “I…don’t exactly have one?”

Bucky took a very deep breath, exhaled slowly, then reclined his seat back as far as he could and pulled his jacket up over his face.

——

The next day, Steve walked down to the Subway and took a train out to his church. He jogged up the steps, entered the church quietly, and made his way over to the confessional booth. He had to wait for a couple of other people to go before him, but when they were done he entered the booth and kneeled down. He could see that Father Walsh was flipping through a Bible on the other side of the wooden lattice that they spoke through.

“Greetings,” Father Walsh said without looking up. “Let us start with a reading from the book of—oh no.”

Steve frowned. “The book of Oh No?”

Father Walsh was looking at Steve with wide, horrified eyes. “I…You were here yesterday, Steven—”

“Yeah, but I got into a little bit of trouble and figured I should come back, cause I feel bad about it.”

Steve watched as Father Walsh clutched at a rosary for a few moments, muttering under his breath, then the elderly priest heaved a sigh and snapped his Bible shut with one hand.

“Father?”

“Will you give me a minute, Steven?” the man asked, rubbing his forehead. “I need to go get a cushion or something. We’re probably going to be here for a while.”

——

@bonkybonkybonky LMAO how did no one think to get cap a license? Does he even care? He’s been buzzing around on that motorcycle for YEARS without a license. We stan a maverick.

@toxicbarnesfanboy Never in my life have I seen anyone as thoroughly resigned as Barnes in that video. It was visceral.

@realtonystark Don’t worry world, Baby Driver is signed up for a Driver’s Ed class next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos make my day brighter!
> 
> (Yes I am aware that Manhattan traffic on a Friday evening absolutely would not allow Steve to be “speeding” anywhere but just suspend your disbelief 😅)


	5. Hack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey FYI guys this chapter contains a tiny but fairly explicit sexual discussion. (And also some handwavey tech stuff; take it with a grain of salt.)  
> Thank you Nacty for the prompt!

Todd Walker was having a shit day.

He woke up late after an all-night gaming session and stumbled into his shower, whereupon he realized that the hot water in his building had been cut off. He then discovered that his favorite pants had a hole in them, so he had to pull on an old pair of khaki shorts that showed off his pale, knobby knees in the worst way. His Computer Science 101 course, a ridiculously easy prerequisite that _he_ could be teaching, was at noon, but he missed his bus and wouldn’t get credit for attendance if he was even a minute late. Resigned to his fate, he slumped into a nearby diner and ordered a cheeseburger.

 _This won’t help my acne,_ he thought as he bit into the juicy, cheesy goodness, _but damn if it doesn’t taste good._

Eating out was a luxury he really couldn’t afford, but sometimes a guy just had to indulge. He glanced around the diner, trying to be subtle as he checked out the pretty waitress with curly black hair, and did a double-take when he saw who was sitting in the corner booth.

_Holy shit!_

——

“Here we are, fellas,” the waitress smiled at Steve and Bucky as she slid their dessert onto their table, “Boston cream pie, best you’ll get outside of Boston.”

Steve and Bucky tucked in to the treat, forks clashing for the biggest first bite just as they had when they were kids. Steve won because he was so damn stubborn, but Bucky managed to get a good sized bite and chomped down indelicately.

“Good,” Steve said from across their usual booth, in the far corner of the old fashioned diner they liked to frequent.

Bucky licked his lips and went in for another bite. “Yeah, real good.”

“Ain’t had cream pie for a long time,” Steve said, jabbing at Bucky’s fork and stealing a huge bite. “Lemon, chocolate, whichever. I love cream pie.”

Bucky, who had a big scoop of pie on his fork, froze up. _Oh, no. don’t start, Barnes, don’t start up._ But he had little control over his thoughts and immediately he started thinking of a very different type of creampie that he had given Steve a while back.

Steve was a hungry bottom and a kinky fucker. He liked it when Bucky, with his super soldier stamina, bred him multiple times in a row and made him leak. Bucky didn’t really give a damn either way, just a long as Steve was happy and he got his rocks off, but he had balked when Steve had suggested a sex tape.

“Buck,” Steve had said, “it’s just for us. It’ll be sexy.”

“Aw, Stevie, it’s weird.”

“No.” Steve had given him the puppy dog eyes. “Lotsa people do it. It’s just a sexy thing we can watch sometimes, Buck, c’mon.”

So of course Bucky had caved in and made the damn sex tape with Steve. He had saved it on the StarkCloud server after Tony had convinced him that it was indeed impenetrable. The pair had watched it a few times and jerked off to it even through it was a bit impersonal and quite shaky and amateur.

The things he did for Steve, Bucky thought mournfully as Steve inhaled the last bite of pie. Steve grabbed Bucky’s fork and licked the last of the cream off of it.

“You’re gross.”

“So’s your ma!” Steve fired back.

Bucky sucked at his strawberry milkshake. “My ma would whip your ass if she was around to hear you say that,” he said around his straw.

“S-Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky jumped a little at the sudden interruption. Standing beside their table was a skinny, nervous looking young man with big glasses and pale, acne-riddled skin. He was hugging a notebook, covered in Winter Soldier stickers, to his chest and looking at Bucky with wide eyes.

“Yeah?” Bucky was never very good at talking to superfans like this kid. “Uh, hi?”

“I’m,” the kid said, swallowing heavily and thrusting out his notebook, “can I…autograph?”

“Uh, uh-huh.” Bucky grabbed the notebook and flipped it open to a blank page. “You got a pen?”

“I have a pen!” Steve said, because of course he did. He always carried pens and pocketknives and a mini-flashlight with him like they were going to get stuck out in the woods. He reached into one of his stupid belt-pouches and pulled out a pen, thrusting it at Bucky.

“Ugh.” Bucky took it and signed his name. “Who do I make it out to?”

“Todd,” the kid—Todd—said, voice trembling. His eyes were on Steve now, wide with awe. “Captain America, can you sign it too?”

“Sure, pal!” Steve said, all gee-golly 1940’s comic book hero, and Bucky snorted at him.

“I, uh, I follow you both on Twitter,” the kid said, swallowing again. “Or—I used to, back when you had one, Captain Rogers.”

“Swell.” Bucky shoved the notebook and pen over to Steve, then turned to face his fan. “So what do you do, Todd?”

“I’m a student and, um, I code.”

Bucky didn’t know what the fuck that meant, so he nodded and forced a small smile. “Oh, great. You live around here?”

“Yeah.” Todd eased up a bit and grinned at him. “I always—”

Bucky and Steve’s phones both went off at the same moment, playing the Avengers alert. They shared a pained glance and both pulled their phones out in tandem.

_Stark: mayday mayday mayday_

_Stark: MAYTfdAYxx_

_Stark: my server got hacked what data do you have saved on there_

_Stark: SHIT_

_Stark:_ 😫😱👎 👨🏻💻🆘

_Stark:FYI TIFFANY INCOMING_

_Tiffany PR Gal: CALL ME NOW._

“Fuck!” Bucky exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Stevie!”

“I know. I saw.” Steve was flushed bright red, his jaw set as he stared down at his phone.

“Dammit, Stark!” Bucky ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Todd, who was staring at them with wide eyes. “Sorry, kid, we gotta go. Thanks for stoppin’ by.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” the kid said tentatively, his own phone pinging with alerts. “Uh, thank you Sir.”

“Take care, pal,” Steve said stiffly, rising to his feet and grabbing Bucky by the shoulder.

He tossed a few bills on the table and pulled Bucky out of the diner, down the street, and into a smelly, rat-infested back alley.

“Okay, what do we do?” Steve said, all stiff and Captain-America-ready-to-kill-Nazis. “We need a strategy.”

“Strategy?!” Bucky threw his hands up in the air. “What strategy is there right now, numbnuts? There’s a video of me ejaculating all over your all-American asshole that’ll be hitting the Internet any second now! I _told_ ya we shouldn’t have made that video!”

“This is real, real bad,” Steve said quietly, face very red.

“Yeah, no shit it’s real bad! Dammit, Stevie!” Bucky turned and kicked a pile of trash, sending a few rats the size of small dogs scurrying away. “You never listen to me! I said that video was a bad idea!”

“I didn’t mean to,” Steve said and, horrifyingly, wiped a tear away from his cheek.

Bucky, eyes wide, paused in his rampage. “Oh, baby. Oh no.” There was nothing on God’s green Earth worse than Steve Rogers crying. He was very square-jawed and stoic about it, but it was still the worst damn thing Bucky ever saw.

“I just thought it was sexy, s’all.”

“Baby doll,” Bucky said softly, pulling Steve into an embrace. “It’s okay. Didn’t mean to make you upset, sweetheart. We’ll figure somethin’ out—”

“Ahem.”

Bucky jerked his head up, glaring at the foolhardy bastard ballsy enough to interrupt them. At the mouth of the alleyway stood the kid from earlier, looking just as awkward as before and shifting from one foot to another.

“What do you want?” Bucky barked out, satisfied when the kid flinched away.

“I just,” the kid stammered, “I wanted to let you know that I scrubbed it.”

“Scrubbed what? That some kinda sex thing?” The fuck were kids talking about nowadays? Bucky didn’t understand half of what came out of their mouths. “I don’t wanna hear about your dick, kid.”

“No!” Todd exclaimed, face growing red. “I’m…I’m pretty good with, you know, computers. Data leaks are kind of my thing. I scrubbed it—got rid of it. Your video. I doubt anyone had time to archive it. Everything else is there, though, I couldn’t get to that fast enough.”

“What?” Steve asked, pulling away from his (wet, snotty) meltdown on Bucky’s shoulder with a sniff. “You—You got rid of the video?”

“Yeah.” Todd swallowed heavily and shifted from foot to foot. “Look, I gotta pay my bill. I have to go. Just wanted to tell you guys. I’ll…uh, see you around?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said breathily, watching as the kid walked away. He jumped a little when his phone chimed.

_Stark: someone got a hold of the files and managed to delete one of them you two are SO LUCKY_

_Stark: but all your other files were leaked I’m so sorry please don’t terminate me_

_Stark: Tiffany just quit again but she will probably come back tomorrow lol._

_Stark: wow you guys have a weird grocery list. Who saves their grocery list on a word document haha please don’t kill me?_

_Stark: Can I just get confirmation that you aren’t going to kill me just a quick “ok”_

_Stark: Bruce’s files were leaked too so you’re not alone at least?_

_Stark: Wow so I guess he writes erotic furry fiction_

——

“I’m glad we use pen and paper for most of our shit,” Bucky said later on, watching as Steve tried to mix his paints to get the right shade of blue. “Worst that was leaked was our grocery list with the lube and the zucchini. That ain’t that bad.”

“Ain’t that bad,” Steve echoed in agreement, glancing up at Bucky’s eyes with his tongue poking out the side of his mouth. “Tilt your big head and look straight up, gotta get your eyes right.”

“Smartass.” Bucky obeyed and blinked up at the ceiling. “So who do you think that kid was?”

“Dunno.” Steve itched his nose and left a big smear of blue across his face. “Saved our asses. That woulda been awful.”

“No kidding.” Bucky sighed and reached out to gently scratch at Steve’s back. “Wish we could thank him.”

——

Todd got home to his tiny shithole apartment and tossed his notebook on his coffee table before collapsing onto his raggedy old couch. He buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply.

Could he have made a bigger ass of himself? Sure, he’d saved Cap and Barnes from being exposed all over the media, but did he have to go back and brag to them about it? He was such an embarrassment. His heroes had been right there in front of him and all he’d managed to do was stammer and make himself look like a fool.

Burning up with humiliation, he wiped at his eyes and flipped open his janky old laptop to scroll around on Twitter. #FurryHulk was trending alongside #HulkYiff and it appeared that Banner had released a statement that he gave “absolutely zero fucks” about what anyone thought of his stories. Good for him.

#Zucchini was also trending. Todd hadn’t been able to get into the files quickly enough to get rid of Barnes’ grocery list, but it was a minor embarrassment compared to that other thing that had been on there. He scowled at a thread that was making fun of Barnes and got into full keyboard-warrior mode for a bit before he noticed a DM.

A DM from…

_Holy shit._

——

@realtonystark Everyone, I would like to formally introduce Todd, our new IT guy. Round of applause for Todd the IT Guy, who helped us out with #StarkHack earlier today

@realtonystark welcome to the madhouse, kiddo

@toxicbarnesfanboy @realtonystark Thank you, Sir. Now please return my call so we can talk about your security protocols.


	6. Three Strikes, You're Out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: This chapter features: Neo-Nazis and the garbage ideology that comes along with them, gun violence, and (referenced) infidelity. If any of that is going to bother you, please use your discretion and give this one a pass.
> 
> Thank you to fandomtrashiness, who requested Steve and Bucky beating up some Nazis!! :)

“Why didn’t you let me get us a box?”

Bucky heaved a sigh at Tony, rolling his eyes as they and Steve settled into their hard-backed Mets stadium chairs after some woman’s warbling, five-minute long rendition of the National Anthem. He situated his Mets cap on his head and watched as Steve fussed around with his Dodgers hat. Tony, in typical fashion, had foregone any sense of decorum and was wearing a Yankees cap.

“You know the Yankees aren’t even in this division, right?” Bucky asked under his breath.

“Implying that I give even half a shit about sportsball,” Tony snorted, already pulling out his phone to mess around on it. “I’m just here because your boo gave me the puppy dog eyes and Sam is still upstate with Karen.”

“ _Sharon_ ,” Steve corrected. “Tony, pass the Cracker Jacks.”

Tony tossed the bag over Bucky’s lap into Steve’s waiting hands. Steve ripped it open and immediately began digging around for the prize. Bucky sighed again.

This little outing had been organized by Steve, who had claimed that a good old-fashioned baseball game would help Tony and Bucky to bond. Bucky, who had lived through seventy years of hell at the hands of actual real life Nazis, had no intention of making an effort to bond with someone who couldn’t even tell the difference between the Mets and the Yankees.

Tony, writing some sort of equations on his phone, appeared to be similarly disinterested.

“Oh, gee,” Steve said as he unwrapped the little plastic toy only to reveal a miniature figurine of Bucky, complete with Winter Soldier mask and his metal arm on the wrong side. Bucky snatched it away.

“Why don’t they ever get my goddamned arm right?” Bucky poked at the figurine’s wonky limbs.

“Give it back, Buck! It’s mine,” Steve demanded.

“No, what’re you gonna do, stick it up your ass? I’m keeping it.” Bucky slipped it into his pocket and ignored Steve’s pouting face.

Playoff games were pretty intense, Bucky noted as the fans heckled a player who was situated over by third base. He and Steve had never been to one in person; back in the old days they’d listened to the games from a nearby rooftop and hadn’t experienced the energy of a crowd. This was an improvement, Bucky mused as he whirled his rally rag around to cheer on his team. They even had a great big screen to show replays and player stats to the fans.

“Hey, watch it, pal.”

Bucky looked around and saw the man in front of him scowling. Oh, he must have hit him in the back of his bald head with the rally rag. “Sorry.”

The guy scoffed and turned back around.

“Friendly crowd,” Tony commented without looking up from his phone. “Really feeling the sportsmanship.”

Bucky ignored him in favor of taking a long pull of Steve’s Coke and settling back to each the game for a while. After the first inning, Steve started to squirm around and accidentally elbowed Bucky in the ribs.

“What’re you doin’, sweetheart?”

Steve twisted his massive body around and craned his neck toward the bathrooms. “I gotta pee.”

“Okay.” Bucky blinked and waited a few moments. “Uh, do you want my permission or something? I swear to God, this better not be a new kink. Go pee.”

“No!” Steve hissed. “I can’t get up in the middle of an inning during a playoff game, Buck.”

“Sure you can. The Dodgers ain’t getting any runs.”

“No,” Steve said desperately, but Bucky just shook his head and looked back at the game. After a few more minutes of desperate squirming, Steve heaved a sigh and shoved his Cracker Jacks into Bucky’s lap. Hunched over as if that would make a lick of difference, he shuffled past Bucky and Tony to head toward the stairs. Bucky sighed when he saw Tony’s eyes lock on Steve’s ass.

“Hey, sit down!”

“Hey, he’s a _Dodgers_ fan!”

Bucky flicked a Cracker Jack up into his mouth and watched as Steve was pelted with peanuts from the angry crowd.

“This is tragic,” Tony said.

“Huh, he was right for once.”

——-

“Where the hell is Steve?” Bucky muttered. It was an inning later and Steve still hadn’t reappeared. Bucky had texted him ten minutes ago and wasn’t surprised when he heard Steve’s text alert ding from under the seat beside him.

“Tragic,” Tony had repeated.

Bucky looked at the clock and huffed. “Stark, can’t you track him down with one of your satellites? I know you sewed GPS chips in all of his clothes.”

“You want me to use my state-of-the-art satellite technology to track Steve down in a baseball stadium?” Tony looked up from his phone for the first time in a while. “I think not, Fullmetal Alchemist. He’s fine. God, you two are so clingy. Do you even let him shower by himself?”

“You don't know the trouble he can get into.” Bucky turned around and peered up the stairs. “Maybe everyone throwing peanuts at him made him upset. He cries a lot more than you’d think.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve seen that man go out running in a pair of rainbow shorts.”

Tony had a point. “Well,” Bucky said, “he must have gotten lost.”

“Didn’t he singlehandedly lead a renegade team through Nazi-occupied Europe? Last month I gave him a two-second glance at some floorplans and he recreated them exactly on paper a minute later.”

Again, Tony had a point. Bucky huffed and turned back around just to see the Mets score two runs. The stand erupted into cheers as the inning wrapped up.

“Did your team get a touchdown?” Tony asked.

“Shut the fuck up, Stark.”

——

“And now it’s time for our third inning Kiss Cam!” the announcer boomed. Bucky lazily watched as the speakers started to play _Your Body is a Wonderland_ and the screen transformed into a flowery pink heart. The camera focused on a flustered elderly couple until they gave each other a peck on the lips.

“Wow, they still do this asinine bullshit?” Tony snarked.

“What is this?”

“Oh, the camera operator finds couples in the crowd and pretty much forces them to kiss in front of tens of thousands of people. God forbid two people just be at a baseball game as friends, right? Or who knows, Mr. and Mrs. Perfect up there might be in the middle of a divorce. Two kids, a dog, a white picket fence, and mom’s screwing the mailman. Do you know my mom _and_ my dad actually had two separate affairs with our mailman? Unbelievable. I caught my mom and the guy getting busy on the piano one time when I was eleven. Told my dad but he just told me to fuck off and went on a bender. Tried to talk to my mom about it but she was so zoned out on tranqs at that point I don’t think she even heard me. Caught my dad giving him a BJ a couple months later. Did you ever fuck my dad? No, who am I kidding, he was so in love with Cap it was ridiculous. Embarrassing, really, always mooning over his posters.” Tony took a deep swill of his beer. “I’m glad I’m nothing like him.”

Bucky blinked. Tony did this sometimes, just dumped some trauma onto the nearest unsuspecting person, but was it usually Bruce. Awkwardly, Bucky reached over and patted Tony on the back.

“Um. Shit happens,” Bucky said gruffly. Tony grunted in agreement and went back to his phone.

Exhausted, Bucky was about to wave down the ice cream guy when he was startled by a cacophony of shrieking from the stands. Startled, he jerked his gaze back up and was horrified to see himself and Tony on the screen, with his arm still slung around Tony’s shoulders. “Dammit.”

“Hm?” Tony blinked up at the screen. “Oh. Heh.”

He leaned over and planted one right on Bucky’s lips.

——

Bucky was sitting straight-backed and mortified in his seat when Steve finally bumbled his way back into their row. He was carrying four hotdogs, a bag of peanuts, and a little plush baseball head in his massive hands.

“Here Buck, I got you this.” Steve settled his bulk into his seat and tossed the baseball mascot into Bucky’s lap. “Sorry I took so long; a kid spotted me and I ended up having an autograph session.”

“Uh-huh.” Bucky stared down at the toy. It glared back with judgmental eyes.

“They didn’t have any turkey dogs, so I got you some kinda veggie thing.” Steve handed him a cardboard container containing a greenish hotdog smothered in mustard. “Looks nasty, but what can you do? Remember when we ate that chicken in Nazi Germany?”

Whenever something was unsatisfactory, Steve would compare it to something even worse that they had encountered in Nazi Germany. _This traffic is real bad, but remember driving a tank through Nazi Germany?_ Or, _We just fought a giant lizard from space, but remember when I saluted you during a firefight and gave away your position in Nazi Germany?_ It was probably a coping thing, but Bucky wasn’t a shrink and couldn’t be bothered to worry about that right now. As it was, he did remember watching Steve pull the head off of a chicken and impale it on a branch to cook.

Mechanically, he picked up the hotdog and took a bite. It was pretty good. Fuck, Tony had kissed him in front of everyone and there was no way Steve wouldn’t find out and get upset and maybe even start _crying_ —

“Hey, sweetcheeks,” Tony said, leaning around Bucky to smirk at Steve, “you’re not gonna believe what happened. Buckster and I were featured on the big screen—”

“Stark,” Bucky interrupted, “remember last month when we were sparring and I threw you through a wall?”

“Uh,” Tony cut himself off abruptly, frowning. “Yeah?”

Bucky’s eyes locked on Tony’s face. “That was _real_ fun.”

Tony snapped his mouth shut and leaned back into his seat.

——

It was during the seventh inning that Bucky heard a commotion behind one of the dugouts. It was enough to stop him from worrying about the kiss; he leaned forward and squinted down at the ruckus.

“Steve.”

“I know.” Steve was also zeroed in on the activity in the Dodgers’ dugout. A minute later, gunshots rang out and a large group of men in black masks stormed the field, causing the players to flee. One of the men, a huge guy holding a microphone, pulled off his mask to reveal pale skin and a shaved, tattooed head.

“We come to speak our truth!” his voice boomed over the speakers. “Everyone stay seated or we light this place up!” The other men set to unfurling a large piece of red and white fabric behind him. Once they had finished, they held up their Nazi flag with pride.

“Oh, hell fuckin’ no,” Bucky said, standing up. Steve caught his arm.

“Buck, we need a plan.”

“Yeah, I got a _real_ swell plan. We go down there and beat the shit out of them. Remember that time in Nazi Germany when I ran around with a baseball bat and cracked some skulls? Time for round two.”

“Every time I think it’s okay not to bring my suit, we run into some bullshit like this,” Tony groaned. “I need to move to a cabin somewhere.”

“Fourteen men on the field, likely more on the perimeter and in the dugout. Seven—eight guns, automatic,” Steve rattled off. “Possible bomb planted somewhere. Stark, call Thor and have him establish a perimeter. Have Nat and Clint on standby, maybe Bruce if he isn’t stoned.”

The men had commandeered the cameras and were projecting their leader up onto the big screen. He was middle aged, scarred and rough-looking with teardrop tattoos covering his cheeks and a swastika on the back of his head. “We come to speak the truth about our Jewish-controlled government!” he proclaimed.

“Listen to this wiseguy!” Bucky exclaimed. “Stevie, let’s go!”

“A _plan_ , Buck,” Steve repeated.

“I called my suit to me. ETA: three minutes,” Tony said. “Barnes, can you keep a lid on it and let these idiots blow hot air for a little bit while backup gets here?”

Reluctantly, glaring at Steve, Bucky sunk back down into his seat.

The man with the microphone went on a rant straight out of Mein Kampf. The audience tittered but remained mostly quiet after he threatened to blow them up again.

“One minute,” Tony said. “Then I’ll fly you both down there and you can have a field day, alright? Heh. Field day. Get it, cause we’re—”

“Yeah,” Steve interrupted. “Thor’s on his way too.”

“Baldy is _mine_ ,” Bucky growled.

“You’re fun, Terminator,” Tony said with a smile. “I like your style.”

“I heard enough of this shit growing up.” Bucky glanced around at the crowd. “There’s some Jewish kid out there scared out of his mind right now.”

“And there’s some _other_ kid getting radicalized right now,” Steve added. “Stark, we need to put an end to this. Where’s your damn suit?”

“There she is,” Tony said with a smile as a tiny red orb zipped over to him. The nanoparticles unfurled and covered his body in seconds. Around them, the crowd gasped and began to cheer.

“Barnes?”

Bucky nodded. Tony grabbed the back of his shirt and lifted him into the air.

——-

Once Bucky had gotten a hold of one of the men’s guns, and Steve had grabbed a bat, the fight didn’t last long. At one point, Steve had grabbed Home Plate and lobbed it straight at a man's head. The fight came to an uneventful finish when Bucky blasted a hole through the ringleader's knee. Steve scurried off of the field to go help people evacuate, Tony found and deactivated the bomb, and Thor assisted the police and medics with a dozen wailing Nazis with holes blown through their legs.

Bucky was alone on the field with the ringleader, who was rolling around and clutching his right leg, and another one of the men who was still wearing a mask. He picked up a bat and sauntered over to the bald man.

“Hey, pal,” he smiled.

“ _You!_ ” the man spat at Bucky’s feet and missed. “You dirty ki—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Bucky said delicately, tapping the man’s chin with the bat. “Quiet. The last Nazi who called me that ended up on the wrong side of my bat.”

The man snapped his mouth shut.

“By the way. Those guns you’re using? Israeli made, knucklehead.” Bucky tutted and walked over to the other man, who had gone limp but was still breathing heavily through his black nylon mask.

“And who do we have here?” Bucky stooped down to tear off the mask, blinking rapidly when the guy’s face was revealed. “Jesus, kid! How old are you?”

The kid, a skinny blond-haired boy with acne and crooked teeth, stammered something through his tears.

“What?”

“Thirteen!”

Bucky backed up a step, eyes wide. “Thirteen?! How the hell did you get roped into this?”

The kid gasped a few breaths and kept sobbing. “My dad made me _,_ ” he said, pointing at the bald leader.

Bucky sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Shit, what am I supposed to say to that?” He kneeled down and ripped off a strip of the trampled Nazi flag to fashion into a tourniquet. “Hold still, Hitler youth, I’m savin’ your goddamned leg. Don’t wanna end up like me.” He waved his metal arm.

“You’re…” The kid’s eyes widened. “Oh! You’re the Winter Soldier!”

“That’s what they call me.”

The boy gasped sharply when Bucky tightened the knot around his thigh. “You’re…helping me? Why?”

“I like killing Nazis,” Bucky said. He crawled up and sat down heavily on the grass next to the boy. “I _really_ like killin’ em. I grew up with people calling me all kinds of names. You know they used to throw pennies at my family when we were walkin’ down the sidewalk? To see if we’d pick them up?”

The boy’s blue eyes were fixated on Bucky’s face.

“But that’s small beans compared to the rest of my story.” Bucky pulled a knife out of his boot and twirled it around in his hand. “Anyway, as much as I like killin’ Nazis, I think educating dumbass kids like you is more important. What’s your name?”

“Eric.”

“Eric. You ever do anything like this before, Eric? Ever hurt anyone?"

"No, no, never. My dad got out of prison a year ago and, _ah_ ," he clutched at his leg, "started making me read all this stuff and go to his meetings with him."

"Sounds about right. So how about this, pal: You can go to juvie and end up like your Pa. You can keep reading Stormfront and listening to nut jobs and hating people like me for no good reason. Or,” Bucky twirled the knife around, “you can change, but that's up to you.”

“I can change,” the boy echoed. “I’m…I don’t wanna be like him. I _hate_ him.”

“I thought so.” Bucky waved down a medic. “I’m good at sniffin’ out Nazis and I don’t think you’ve got it in you. As long as you don't have a record, I’ll throw my weight around a little bit to help you out. We’re putting your stupid ass through the Captain America boot camp for young offenders, you heard about that program?”

“Yessir.”

“And if I catch you with any Nazi garbage, I’ll kick your fucking ass, you hear me? I’m gonna be breathin’ down your neck and watchin’ every move you make. You don’t get no three strikes with me; you slip up _once_ and you go to juvie, you understand?”

“Yessir!”

“Good.” Bucky stood up as the medics rushed over. “I’ll come see you in a few weeks. Have fun when they dig that slug outta your leg, Eric.”

“Yessir, Mr. Barnes!”

Bucky rolled his eyes and headed off the field. Overeager kid. He hoped he could help him.

He spat on the kid's dad on his way out.

——

@DailyBugleExpress: Terrorist attack at Citi Field FOILED by Captain America!

@bonkybonkybonky: BUCKY BARNES shot a NAZI in the DICK!!! Link!

@realbuckybarnes: 💅

@RealSamWilson: I leave town with my girl for one (1) day and I return to this clownery.

——

“Mr. Barnes, over here!”

Bucky stalked across the boot camp’s field and saw Eric bouncing up and down, waving at him frantically. He raised a hand in greeting.

“Hey, pal. Happy six months of not being a Nazi.”

“Mr. Barnes,” Eric smiled, panting. He was wearing a sweaty t-shirt and basketball shorts, his new glasses sliding down his nose and his braces glinting in the sunlight. His hair, previously buzzed short, grew in wild curls down past his ears. “Captain Rogers only made me do a hundred sit-ups today!”

“Yeah? That’s great, kiddo. You must be behaving yourself. Did you do your reading?”

“Yes, Sir!” Eric answered. “Did you know that the _shofar_ can be made out of a kudu horn?”

“The fuck’s a kudu?” Bucky patted the kid’s shoulder and led him over to the mess hall. “Let’s go get some grub, you’re growin’ like a weed.”

Eric limped along beside him. “A kudu is an African antelope. Their horns are really long and spiral-shaped.”

“No shit! My family only had an old ram’s horn. My Pa let me blow it on Rosh Hashanah once but I wasn’t no good at it. My sister always got to do it. I might still have the damn thing in storage if you want to give it a shot sometime." Bucky pulled the door to the mess hall open and herded the kid inside. "Hurry it up, you’re going to a Central Park cleanup this afternoon, right? I’ll tag along.”

Eric turned and smiled at him. “ _Thank you_ , Mr. Barnes.”

——

Bucky sat down heavily on the couch and slumped into Steve’s side.

“Eric’s dad got life in prison,” Steve said, dumping a pile of Skittles into Bucky’s outstretched hand.

“Mm, that’s good news, babydoll.” Bucky picked out the red Skittles and popped them into his mouth. “Eric’s aunt’s gonna take him in once he’s out of boot camp. Nat vetted her; she’s a librarian in Queens. Sweet lady, has a lot of cats and is very into composting. Definitely not a Nazi.”

“I’m proud of you, Buck. Lots of other people would have just thrown that kid away and he’d probably be getting worse. I know it’s not easy for you.”

“Lots of kids can be helped,” Bucky said simply with a shrug. "Ain't nothin'."

“Still proud of ya,” Steve smiled.

“Thanks, baby. Oh,” Bucky said, straightening up. “Stevie. I needed to tell you, that day at the game, somethin’ else happened.”

Steve flicked a Skittle at Bucky’s forehead. “I already know you shot one of the Nazis in the dick, Bucky. It was trending.”

Bucky picked up the Skittle and fired it down Steve’s shirt right in between his tits. “Not that. Stark and I were on the Kiss Cam and he laid one on me.”

Steve wriggled. “Yeah?”

“You’re not mad?”

“Stark’s got it bad for _me_ , Buck, not you. Of course I know you’d never cheat on me, shit-for-brains.”

“Aw, my sweet babydoll.” Bucky leaned forward and buried his face in Steve’s hair. “So good to me.”

“My Buck. Did anyone get a video?” Steve asked after a moment.

“I dunno. It was real quick. And I think the Nazi terrorists sort of overshadowed it.”

——

@DailyBugleExpress: EXCLUSIVE! Ballpark romance? Tony Stark caught on VIDEO kissing Winter Soldier six months ago! Winter-Cap DIVORCE?

@IronWinterLuv44 omg it’s true I told you guys they’re having an affair

@TiffanyLee_PR @realtonystark I can’t get a hold of you. Stop avoiding me. CALL ME.

@bonkybonkybonky Bucky Barnes shot a Nazi in the DICK during a METS GAME and you’re worried about a kiss cam??? What timeline is this? Priorities, people!

@realbuckybarnes @DailyBugleExpress Why would I go for a little piece of beef jerky when I got a prime New York strip laying in my bed?

@realtonystark That hurt, Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note:  
> A shofar is an ancient Jewish instrument typically made of a ram's horn that is blown around Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. It's really loud and very difficult to blow properly, especially the long kudu ones. Shanah tovah!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated! I take prompts and requests as well!


	7. Disney Part One: Off With Your Head

“This is not somewhere I want to be.”

Steve adjusted his Captain America Mickey Mouse ears and gave him a blinding smile. “Aw, Buck.”

“No.” Bucky wriggled out of Tiffany’s grasp and crossed his arms. “It’s just a bullshit photo-op, anyway.”

“It’s a _promotional event_ ,” Tiffany said firmly, one hand on her pregnant belly and the other scrolling through her phone, “for the new Avengers Campus theme park. This is going to bring in billions of dollars, but you only get a cut if you do the photo-ops, so suck it up and put on the goddamned mouse ears.”

Bucky blinked down at the tiny woman. “You get into another fight with your husband?” he asked warily.

She fumed at him. “He wants to do a gender reveal party and I told him I’m perfectly happy just having a normal baby shower and not making a big production of everything and now he’s talking to his sister about our personal problems and my back hurts and _you’re making things difficult for me!_ ”

Bucky promptly put the mouse ears atop his head. Steve reached over and adjusted them so they were straight.

“It’ll be fun, Buck!” Steve encouraged. “Tony and Nat are doing all the talking. We just have to stand there and smile. And then we get to go on some rides before the meet and greet!”

“Oh, _swell_ ,” Bucky ground out.

“Now,” Tiffany said, grabbing Steve’s arm to lead them over to the side of a large building. “Tony’s going to fly in and Natasha is going to repel down from that building over there,” she pointed to an adjacent building on the other side of the stage where they would do their presentation. “You two go up this fire escape and our stunt crew will get you set up on the zip line. Steve, classic hero landing with the shield, make sure you’re smiling.” She shooed them toward the staircase. “Bucky, you obviously can’t have a real gun so we’ve got a Mickey Mouse bubble gun for you to shoot off once you land.”

“Fuck this. I was tortured by Nazis for seventy years.”

“Thank you. You two won’t be mic’ed up, but try to keep the language appropriate, for the love of God,” she said. “Now go.”

The pair started trudging up the stairs. Steve made a face at him.

“You can be a little less grumpy, Buck. We’re at a goddamn theme park.”

“Mickey Mouse bubble gun.”

“Well, you can’t bring in your fuckin’ [X95](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IWI_Tavor_X95), can you?!” Steve hopped up an entire flight of stairs and stood at the top, hands on hips. “You gonna be like this all day?”

“I’m gonna be like this until I get some food in my stomach. I didn’t have no breakfast.”

“It ain’t my fault you wanted to eat some ass instead of eatin’ some eggs.” Steve bounced up the last few flights and Bucky followed at a steady pace. Dammit, Steve was right.

“Hello, all,” Steve smiled at the starstruck stunt team who was awaiting them at the top of the building. “I hear we’re zip lining today?”

“Uh, yes.” A red-haired woman stepped forward and ushered them over to the line. “The line is secured from….”

Bucky zoned out, glaring down at the massive crowd who awaited them. News cameras were set up in the back, ready to catch his every move on stream and broadcast it to millions of people. God, he hated the future. He pulled his phone out and shot off a text to his intern:

 **Sent:** _when I get home tomorrow I expect a boba tea and egg rolls on my kitchen table_

 **Eric the Minion:** _Yes, Sir!_

“Sergeant?”

Bucky slid his phone away and turned toward the middle aged man hovering beside him. “Yeah, pal?”

“Sir, I was instructed to give this to you.” The man held out a Mickey Mouse bubble gun that was obviously made for a child. The barrel was rounded clear plastic and the grip was Mickey himself, wearing a wizard outfit and smiling mockingly up at Bucky.

“Buck!”

Bucky dragged himself over to Steve, who was standing at the edge of the roof, holding onto the rolling mechanism that would allow him to ride down the zip line. “I don’t know if you remember the last time I was on a zip line,” Bucky said flatly, “but it didn’t work out too good for me.”

Steve looked confused for a moment, then wounded. He let out a hurt sound and Bucky could swear his blue eyes were tearing up under his ridiculous Captain America helmet. “Oh no. Bucky.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said quickly. “Sorry, baby, shouldn’t have said that. Ugh.” Reluctantly, he slid the bubble gun into his leg holster and cracked a grin at Steve. “Let’s, uh. Let’s do this, I guess.”

Steve made another little sound and turned back to the crowd, clearly in mission-mode. Bucky only prayed that they wouldn’t have to battle anyone today.

“Three, two, one, go!”

Steve rocketed down the zip line just as Stark came flying in from somewhere.  
Streamers and confetti were blasted into the air when they made their perfect one-kneed superhero landings.

Bucky grabbed the mechanism he’d go down on and took a deep breath, then jumped off the roof and rolled down to land beside Steve. He let go just a little early and landed with a pretty nifty somersault, then jumped up and unloaded the bubble gun right at Stark’s face.

“Oh, look at my friend here!” Stark said with a toothy, irritated grin. “The Winter Soldier! We have the best supersoldiers, don’t we folks?”

The crowd roared. Bucky, satisfied that he’d blasted enough bubbles into Stark’s face, aimed the gun toward Natasha. She gave him a shrewd look and he quickly reconsidered, blowing the bubbles out into the deafening crowd instead. He made sure the college kid who was wearing a _Team Iron Man_ shirt got a nice mouthful of bubble liquid.

“Thank you, thank you,” Stark said, quieting the crowd with a wave of his hand. “We’re here to celebrate the opening of the latest and greatest themed land in the world, The Avengers Campus!”

Bucky tuned Stark out and let his eyes scan over the crowd. Not picking up on any threats, he turned his bubble gun toward Steve and gave it a few shots.

“Knock it off, Buck,” Steve gritted from behind his big phony smile.

“Bored,” Bucky replied, grateful that his mask covered his mouth.

“Don’t take it out on me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and slid the gun back into his holster. He looked back out at the crowd and frowned when he caught sight of one young woman’s shirt:

 _Captain America? More like_ Fap _tain America_ , it read. What did it mean? He shifted over toward Natasha and hissed at her to get her attention.

“Shoo, pest,” she whispered, mouth unmoving.

“What does Faptain America mean?”

She discreetly elbowed him in the ribs. “I don’t know. Shoo; it’s my turn to talk.”

He sighed and shifted over toward Stark, who had just finished his ass-kissing speech and was now just smiling out at the crowd and striking douchey poses. “Stark.”

“Oh, God. What?”

“What does Faptain America mean?”

Stark’s eyes bulged. “What?”

“It’s on some girl’s shirt. What does it mean?”

“That’s a subject for another time. Jesus Christ, you two are going to kill me someday.”

After a few minutes, Natasha wrapped up her speech and the CEO came up on stage to make some remarks. Rejected, Bucky lingered behind him and fiddled around with his bubble gun.

“—all started by a mouse!” the CEO said. Bucky lost himself in the odd shirt he’d spotted, pondering what it could possibly mean. Was it some sort of pun—

“ ** _Hiya, pal!”_**

Now, Bucky was pretty much recovered at this point. He still had nightmares and occasionally his memories would blank out, but he had been going to therapy for years and he was proud of his progress. But the one thing that set him off was people (not-Steve people, at least) sneaking up on him and touching him. Therefore, when a massive white hand came down on his shoulder, he reacted by whirling around and using his bubble gun to pistol-whip the poor bastard in the Mickey costume. The costume head flew off into the crowd and revealed a tall young man with bulging, terrified eyes.

“Oh,” Bucky said as the crowd went completely silent. “Shit.”

——

“You actually aren’t at fault for this one,” Tiffany said over their fancy lunch at [Club 33](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Club_33). The club, a pretentious establishment located in the New Orleans section of the park, was overpriced and ridiculous, so of course Stark had a membership. The four Avengers and Tiffany all sat around a table and picked at their meager lunches. Steve in particular was looking very sad after he realized that the tiny salad he’d been given was indeed the entree.

“What kind of idiot sneaks up behind the Winter Soldier?” Tony asked, waving down the waitress for another glass of wine. “Even I don’t do that.”

“He’s very apologetic.”

“It’s not anyone’s fault,” Natasha said diplomatically. “Just a mistake.”

“Yeah, but Robocop still decapitated Mickey Mouse in front of a bunch of kids,” Tony said. “We’ll have to do some damage control.” He shoved his leftover salad in front of Steve, who hummed his thanks and dug in.

“Most of the PR stuff is on Disney at this point,” Tiffany sighed. “Bucky could probably even sue if he wanted. The online consensus is that it’s funny, so it’ll probably blow over in a couple weeks, maybe a month if it becomes a meme.”

Bucky used his knife to pick some arugula out of his teeth, leaning back to kick his feet up on the white tablecloth. “I don’t want the kid fired or nothing. I was just thinkin’ about that Faptain America shirt and got lost in my own head, so it ain’t really his fault. He’s just lucky I used my right arm or this would be a _whole_ different story.”

“What’s Faptain America?” Steve asked loudly around the last bit of Tony’s salad. At a nearby table, a group of women tittered and tapped at their phones.

“Means someone’s beating their meat while lookin’ at you,” Tony answered just as loudly. “Pretty relatable, if you ask me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Natasha said.

Horrified, Tiffany watched the women at the other table and imagined what this conversation would look like when it inevitably hit Twitter later. “I can’t do this right now,” she concluded, hauling herself up. She waved her hands at Steve and Bucky. “Can’t do it right now.”

“What crawled up her ass?” Bucky asked as she walked away. “She ain’t the one who decapitated a beloved international icon.”

“Dunno.” Steve reached across the table and grabbed Tiffany’s half-eaten salad. “Anyway, Buck, you wanna go on some rides before our meet and greet? Can’t get into trouble just goin’ on a few rides, right?”

——

@DailyBugleExpress Winter Soldier DECAPITATES MICKEY MOUSE?! Exclusive video!

@bonkybonkybonky Not his fault! The guy snuck up on him!

@Fap2Cap69 I was there and I can’t believe I saw it with my own two eyes. Did anyone get a video of Cap’s reaction?! I saw Stark bust up laughing.

@TeamTonyEStark I would have gotten a great video if that asshole Barnes hadn’t shot bubbles at me and smeared up my phone camera. 😠

@AvengerNewsOfficial BREAKING! Exclusive video from inside Club 33! APPALLING table manners from Avengers! Do they think they’re better than the little people? Watch video here.

@DisneylandAvengersOfficial Join us for an Avengers Meet and Greet outside of It’s A Small World at 5PM! Meet your favorite heroes Captain America, Iron Man, and Black Widow!

@realbuckybarnes hey you @DisneylandAvengersOfficial I’ll be there too you corporate assholes.

@TiffanyLee_PR It’s not even noon yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos make me smile!


End file.
